


The Most Important Thing

by echospider



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Goodbyes, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pining, but hes ATTENTIVE !!!, but i did this in ONE NIGHT, doyoung isnt good with feelings, i mean nothing i write ever is, i mean this isnt SUPER angsty its just kinda moody, i rly do not know what to tag this with honestly, needy yuta, not my best tbh, tbh y'all know im not good at tagging fics, this is soft tho u kno me lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:28:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24796951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echospider/pseuds/echospider
Summary: “How come you’re the only one who makes me feel seen? How do you just know what I’m thinking? How do you know exactly what I want at any given time?” Yuta had pleaded for an answer. For a confession.Doyoung shrugged. “I just do.”
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	The Most Important Thing

Yuta closes the wardrobe and sighs. He has an hour maximum until he has to leave for the airport and he can’t find his favorite jacket. He has packed everything he needs except for this jacket, but he knows where it should be. He had just cleaned it yesterday and it should have been hung up on the door of the wardrobe. But after he noticed it disappeared from that spot, after he searched up and down the whole house for it, he’s back where he started. Laying down on the bed in front of the wardrobe, lifting his head to stare at the polished wooden doors, deep in thought. Yuta lays on top of the freshly made bed for a few moments, wishing he didn’t have to leave. Yuta loves the opportunity for a schedule by himself, as they are few and far between, but God, he hates leaving this bed. He hates leaving Doyoung even more. But today, he doesn’t have to worry about leaving Doyoung this morning, who left almost as soon as Yuta woke up next to him. “I’m gonna go pick up something for breakfast. Have a good trip, if I don’t see you before you leave.” And with those words and a brisk kiss on Yuta’s forehead, Doyoung was gone. 

All morning, Yuta’s mind has been whirring with questions, the loudest and most important one being “what the hell was that?” Because, truly, what the hell was that? Yuta picks up the clothes he had discarded from the night before, strewn across the bedroom floor, noticing Doyoung’s are already in the laundry basket. His heart pangs. Doyoung never does this. For one thing, Doyoung is not the type to pick up only his own mess, the reasons being that he cannot stand a messy floor, and he shows affection through actions rather than words. But even if he had been rushing, Doyoung is the type to linger. Despite being the strong, silent type, he always makes an effort to be tender. Whenever Doyoung must leave on time, he wakes up an hour earlier, just to say “ten more minutes,” six times. Whenever Doyoung presses a kiss to Yuta’s forehead, it’s never just a kiss, it’s an embrace. It’s a quiet admission of love that rarely comes from words alone. Whenever Doyoung has to leave, he watches, he stares at Yuta’s form as he meanders away, squeezing every last drop of intimacy out of every moment, to savor it for as long as he can. But there was none of that this morning. 

Yuta feels himself going crazy about it. He looks at his watch. 40 minutes until he has to leave, and it’s been almost an hour since Doyoung left his side. He huffs and stands up, walking to the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room. He admires his choice of outfit; a black button-up shirt tucked into a slim-fitting pair of black jeans, antique-looking silver jewelry peeking out from under his long, cinnamon-colored hair and around his neck. Yuta frowns as he opens the wardrobe again, opting for a denim jacket to complete the look, but it just doesn’t look right. But more than wondering where his leather jacket is, he wonders where Doyoung is. It does not take this long to pick up breakfast and come back home. Yuta feels like Doyoung is avoiding him, and he hates it. 

Yuta picks up his phone and stares at Doyoung’s contact in his phonebook. _Why aren’t you here? Why aren’t you making me late? Why are you avoiding me? Why won’t you just talk to me? … Where did you put my jacket?_

Yuta misses the sound of the front door opening as he bites the bullet and calls Doyoung. He even misses the sound of Doyoung’s ringtone downstairs. He only notices Doyoung’s voice through the phone as he casually says, “Hey, what’s up?” 

Yuta hates how much even that stings. The way Doyoung addresses him as he would address anyone. Doyoung, who goes above and beyond for Yuta in his own way, has just made Yuta feel so remarkably un-special, and it makes him so miserable. 

But he ignores it, and simply says “hey,” as he opens the bedroom door and starts walking down the stairs. “I know you’re out right now, but,” Yuta turns into the hallway and starts towards the kitchen, “I just wanted to know if you had seen-” 

He stops. Yuta sees the back of a raven-black head, and the matte sheen of light bouncing off of the fine, vintage leather. Doyoung turns around and sees Yuta across the kitchen island, holding his phone to his ear. Yuta hangs up. 

“My leather jacket.” 

Doyoung gives an awkward smile as Yuta closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Sorry,” Doyoung looks down, guilt practically dripping from his voice and expression. 

“I’ve been looking for it all morning, and you’ve been gone for an hour, wearing it.” Yuta presses his hands to the counter and leans over the island, his eyes burning holes into Doyoung’s. 

“I know, I just…” Doyoung looks up but refuses to meet Yuta’s gaze, looking past his shoulder instead, “I love the smell of the cleaner you use.” 

Yuta says nothing, deciding to slowly step around the counter to stand in front of Doyoung, not satisfied with the excuse. 

“I love the way it’s roomy, but it’s not too big.” Doyoung’s voice gets quieter as Yuta gets closer. Yuta stops, hardly any space between them, but still feeling a thousand miles away from Doyoung. 

“I love that… it’s important to you.” Doyoung whispers, finally looking into Yuta’s eyes, biting his lip immediately after his last word, as if he wants to take back what he said. Despite the inward struggle, he speaks again: “I want that.” 

“The most important thing is you.” Yuta quietly fires back, wanting to reach for Doyoung’s hands, but refraining. A part of him feels like he can’t. “What happened this morning?” 

Doyoung shrugs. “I just wanted to get breakfast.” 

Yuta looks behind him. “You didn’t come back with any.” 

“I ate while I was out.” 

“So… nothing for me?” Yuta grumbles, the two men knowing that this is about more than breakfast, more than the jacket. 

Doyoung looks up, past Yuta. His eyes are misty, the truth attempting to hide behind an unfazed expression, but uncontrollably cascading out of his mouth in a few simple words. “I’m selfish.” Doyoung stares ahead, unable to look at Yuta, who’s eyes widen with sympathy for the rare emotional display coming from the clearly nervous Doyoung right now. “And I hate saying goodbye to you.” 

To an outsider, it wouldn’t look like much. Two stoic men standing in a kitchen, one refusing to look at the other as he tells him how he doesn’t like goodbyes. But to Yuta, this is the closest Doyoung has ever been to pouring out his heart. Doyoung does not talk about his feelings, he just shows them when he’s feeling these emotions particularly strongly. It’s why Doyoung will treat Yuta the same way he does everyone else, but takes it upon himself to do things for him. To show Yuta that he’s thinking of him. To show Yuta that he means more than everyone else. In fact, Yuta had noticed this long before the two became an item. Yuta noticed that he never had to say when he wanted a coffee or when he needed some fresh air, because Doyoung would be there with an iced Americano and an offer to go on a walk with him whenever he needed it. It was hard for Yuta not to notice that Doyoung had attuned himself to all of Yuta’s needs. Yuta had been at the back of Doyoung’s mind in his day-to-day life, and at the front of it during every night he spent alone, and it was becoming so obvious to Yuta that he had to address it. That moment of confrontation is replaying in Yuta’s mind right now, as he looks at Doyoung’s troubled eyes. He looks the same way now as he did then, like a deer in the headlights. 

“How come you’re the only one who makes me feel seen? How do you just know what I’m thinking? How do you know exactly what I want at any given time?” Yuta had pleaded for an answer. For a confession. 

Doyoung shrugged, showing his face to him, but not looking his way. “I just do.” He said simply, lip trembling as he spoke. 

Yuta kisses him now the same way he did then: taking his chin and pulling Doyoung’s face to meet his eyes, other hand reaching for Doyoung’s as he leans in. Time slows down as Yuta feels Doyoung tense up in his hold, eyes closed, leaving just enough time and room for Doyoung to back out if he isn’t ready for how emotional this could be for him. Because Yuta knows, has always known, that for Doyoung, even the most fleeting touch is its own declaration of love. And then, Yuta gently presses his lips to Doyoung’s, a kiss that burns between the two and eventually engulfs them in a pleasant warmth, wrapping them in a sacred moment. As Doyoung lets himself melt into Yuta’s touch, his arms find purchase around Yuta’s waist, pulling him closer. Yuta breaks the kiss, instead opting to pull Doyoung forward into a real hug, holding him as close as he possibly can. Completely overcome with emotion, a few tears escape Doyoung’s eyes. 

“You’re gonna be late.” Doyoung whispers. 

“I don’t care,” Yuta says. 

“Yes, you do.” Doyoung pulls back and gives Yuta a weak smile. 

There’s a brief pause as the two look at each other. Yuta uses his thumb to gently wipe away Doyoung’s tears. 

“I feel so stupid. But it’s a whole month without you.” Doyoung puts his hand on top of Yuta’s, so he can rest his head in Yuta’s hand. 

Yuta smiles. “If you were that stupid, I wouldn’t let you take care of that jacket for a whole month.” 

Doyoung’s eyes flicker with joy and relief, and he can’t help his widening grin. “Are you sure?” 

Yuta nods. “It looks better on you than I’d like to admit.” 

* * *

Doyoung stands in the doorway looking at Yuta as he loads his luggage into the back of the car. Yuta approaches him to say goodbye one last time. 

“I still don’t want to say goodbye to you.” Doyoung frowns. 

“Don’t say goodbye then,” Yuta does his best to smile so the expression is fresh in Doyoung’s mind, “just say, ‘see you later’ or something.” 

Doyoung takes a look at Yuta’s face, lingering on every detail. When he thinks he’s got just enough of it to get him through the month, he nods, blinks slowly, and whispers his goodbye: “I love you.” 

Yuta beams and pulls Doyoung in by both of his hands for a quick, chaste kiss to the lips. He presses his forehead to Doyoung’s and says it back, perhaps even quieter, “I love you.” Yuta steps back off of the doorstep and towards the passenger seat of the car where the manager waits for him. The two maintain eye-contact, the words they shared charging electric smiles across their lips, keeping each other’s hearts warm. Yuta takes one last second to cut through the yearning before he gets into the car, as he shouts out to Doyoung, 

“Take good care of the leather.” 

**Author's Note:**

> ehhh not my best but i wanted to get something out while i work on two other pretty long works. this originally came from a list of drabble prompts and then i got carried away and turned it into uh... that. i really do NOT know how to write less than 1k, lol.


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